November and December of 1973 had a lot of snow. All Forest Service survey crews had been laid off the end of October. Those of us who weren’t in college stayed in Bonners Ferry drawing $69 a week unemployment. Over the winter, we normally stayed busy ice fishing at Herman Lake or helping get firewood for those who owned wood heaters.

It started with a smoke break. Saws shut down. Packs or pouches came out. Hardened hands tapped packs on a knee or delicately rolled slender tubes. Hands cupped against a breeze and the first long drag. Silence. Silence until one old boy started. “Hey, you guys hear about…?” or “Do you guys remember…?” And then the stories began.